


Efforts

by Twyd



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Anxiety, Bedroom Sex, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Casual Sex, Commitment, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Fight Sex, Hate Sex, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Jealousy, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Near Death Experiences, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Rough Sex, Slash, Trust Issues, Wall Sex, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 09:50:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11734569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twyd/pseuds/Twyd
Summary: "When he comes to, the first thing that drifts into Shizuo’s consciousness is the smell. A musky, primitive smell that shouldn’t go straight to his cock the way it does."





	Efforts

**Author's Note:**

> Title and summary problems again, gah.

When he comes to, the first thing that drifts into Shizuo’s consciousness is the smell. A musky, primitive smell that shouldn’t go straight to his cock the way it does.

Something is tickling his nose. He knows without opening his eyes, from the feel and the smell, what it is. Unsticking his eyelids, he moves his head so it is pillowed more comfortably on Izaya’s thigh.

His cheek is on Izaya’s thigh, and he is nosing the hair between Izaya's legs. Shizuo groans and moves back slowly, carefully, like he’s easing away from a bomb. Izaya’s other thigh is draped over his shoulder. Shizuo eases it back on to the bed. His left hand is clasped in Izaya’s, so comfortably and for so long that he can no longer feel the difference between the informant’s skin and his own.

Izaya is still asleep, naked, with his head to one side, hair tangled, mouth open slightly, and, even with his head heavy with sleep and exhaustion, Shizuo wants him all over again.

“Fuck,” he says.

He drags his eyes away and looks out the window. He can see threads of pink and gold in the early morning sky, the rising orb of the sun. He blinks the last bit of sleep away as it makes its way into the room, highlighting their skin gold, warming him. It’s so pleasant, he feels his elbows giving way with it, and allows his head to go back down on Izaya’s stomach this time. Izaya’s stomach is hard – all of him is hard, he’s made of muscle – but he’s still comfortable, and Shizuo goes back to sleep there, leaving his left hand where it is, fingers laced with the informant’s.

* * *

 

 

When he wakes up again, Izaya is gone.

Shizuo lies completely still, thinking Izaya may be in the bathroom, or getting a glass of water, or speaking to someone on the phone, but the longer he lies there in silence, the less likely this seems. Maybe he even imagined the whole thing.

But when he finally drags himself up to go to the bathroom, the almost-sweet scent that is Izaya lingers, the shower door left open for it to air, steam still escaping out the window, the still-damp towel wrung neatly and left to dry on the rack.

Shizuo sighs. He’d always been a heavy sleeper.

He wouldn’t mind, if it hadn’t been hard enough to get Izaya here in the first place. They’d spent the last two years – _almost_ two years, he corrects – doing it on skyscraper terraces, in alleyways and against or under the subway bridge, always in the dark, and always without words. Two years, and he hadn’t once seen Izaya naked. Except for last night and this morning, of course. Two years of no words, except for the usual bullshit at the beginning when he’s crushing Izaya against the nearest hard surface,

_I hate you, I hate you so fucking much_

Izaya’s laughter ringing out even when Shizuo smashes his head back on whatever they’re up against, usually by accident, heat of the moment, but sometimes on purpose. He brings lube, but it’s always rushed and he knows he must be hurting him.

They never talk once they get past the undressing and the teasing and they’re actually fucking because it becomes too intense, too much effort. Shizuo used to think it lasted this long because it was the most effective way of getting Izaya to shut up.

It had always been rough. _Too_ rough, Shizuo thinks, even if they both get off on it. It is always Shizuo who is very much in control, and Izaya who suffers the worst of the damage, whether it’s his skull against a metal bridge or, worse. The first time, when they didn’t carry lube, when Shizuo had finally moved back, there was so much blood on the ground between Izaya’s legs, _so_ much blood, and Izaya had laughed and laughed at the look on Shizuo’s face.

He hadn’t wanted to do it again. Even if it had been the best of his life, it had scared him. And Izaya had seen it in his face and laughed at him and said,

“What’s wrong, Shizu-chan, scared of a little blood?”

Because Izaya’s crazy, and they’d done it again anyway, and that’s when Shizuo starts taking lube out with him.

Two years.

Perhaps Izaya has slept with someone else in all this time. Shizuo doesn’t think so, but it is possible. He always thought people would be too scared or too smart to sleep with Izaya, but of course there must be people who don’t find him that scary or that smart, or they _do_ and they want him anyway, in spite or because of. It’s not like Izaya isn’t good looking. Or smart. Or good in bed. Izaya has never suggested Shizuo find someone else, but he didn’t tell him not to either. Not that he would.

 Coming back to the present, Shizuo goes to make himself tea. He looks around, wondering if Izaya had stopped by here for anything, an apple, a drink of water from the tap. There’s no trace of him if he has.

When he goes back to his room for his phone, he realises Izaya has left his knife. He wonders if Izaya left it on purpose, decides he probably hadn’t. Shizuo shrugs. Serves the flea right.

* * *

 

His latest near death experience hadn’t been Izaya’s fault. It hadn’t been anyone’s save for his own, and he’d been lucky. Being hit by a truck was one thing. Being run over by one is a completely different story. And they’d all stood marvelling over him in awe, when he’d got up with nothing but tyre imprints and the shakes and aching bones.

He’d felt it, though. He’d felt how close he’d come, even if he’d been able to walk away without even needing an appointment with Shinra.

Tom and Celty had told him to go home and stay there, get some rest, and he had nodded and agreed with them. Except for when he did get home, and he’s still shaking and fucking wired, and the last thing he wants to do is relax.

So he goes back out and goes looking for Izaya.

Everyone thinks they run into each other by accident, but the truth is they know each other so well that they know more or less where to find each other at any given time, or how to avoid each other.

“What do you want?” The informant is frowning when Shizuo finds him. He’s always frowning these days whenever he sees Shizuo. Shizuo never thought he’d miss the smirking and the laughter at his expense.

“Why do I ask,” Izaya sighs now, when Shizuo comes closer. “It’s only ever one of two things.”

Shizuo stops.

“ _Two_ things?”

“Mm-hmm. This.” He whips his knife out and holds it at Shizuo’s throat. “Or this.” He grabs Shizuo’s crotch with his free hand.

Shizuo hisses with surprise.

“ _Don’t_.”

“Don’t do which?” he says, laughing, while Shizuo tries to remember which is Izaya’s best hand – Izaya is ambidextrous, but one hand is slightly more coordinated – takes a gamble anyway and manages to wrestle the hand holding the knife away from his throat. He can’t tell if that really was Izaya’s weaker hand, or if the informant simply couldn’t be bothered.

Once that’s taken care of, he lifts Izaya up and pushes his shoulders back into the nearest wall, feeling Izaya’s legs lock around him, heels digging into his back, cold fingers gripping his hair.

“You’re shaking,” Izaya whispers.

“Mm, something happened.”

“Really,” he says, and it is the most interested Shizuo has ever heard him in something he has said. “Like what?”

“You’re an informant, aren’t you? Figure it out.”

Izaya laughs and drops it. Perhaps he will go and find out, or perhaps he doesn’t care enough. Not that it matters. It’s not like Shizuo’s here to talk.

* * *

 

 

It had been comforting, in a weird way. It had calmed him down and helped him finally stop shaking, and he supposes it’s a little telling that this is what he wanted, and this is who he wanted to be with, right after his closest call yet.

As well as the accident, perhaps it was the increasing no’s from Izaya that got him thinking.

“I’m too tired, protozoan.”

“I’m busy.”

“I have to get up early.”

“I have to go somewhere later.”

“I’ve hurt my neck.”

“I’ve got a cold.”

“I’ve got an appointment.”

Shizuo thinks if Izaya had tired of it completely he would just tell him, so one of these excuses lead him to blurt,

“Do you want to come over anyway?”

And Izaya had stopped rubbing his neck or his eyes or whatever offending bodypart to stare at him.

“What for?”

And Shizuo had just stood there stupidly and not said anything.

* * *

 

It is raining the next time he sees Izaya.

“Oh, what a shame,” Izaya says, although they’d done it in the rain before. Shizuo doesn’t quite grasp what’s happening until Izaya steps away. “Maybe next time, Shizu-chan.”

“Come over,” he blurts.

Izaya rolls his eyes.

“Are you that desperate? Fine, we can go on that fire escape again. It was fun last time.”

“No.”

Izaya turns back in surprise. He’d been expecting Shizuo to follow.

“I don’t really want to do it in the rain. It’s cold, it’s dirty, I don’t want to wreck my clothes again. Come over.”

 _Shut up_ , Shizuo tells himself. _Don’t overdo it._

Izaya is already looking suspicious.

“You’re asking me to come over.”

“Yes.”

“To your house.”

“Yes _._ Can you hurry up, flea? We’re getting wet.”

He still looks confused, but puts his knife away and follows Shizuo home anyway.

* * *

 

Bed is better, Shizuo decides. Soft and comfortable and warm and yielding. Much more like _sex_ and much less like a fight.

He’s also invested in better lube. Not that there’s anything wrong with what they use, but he wants to make an effort, he wants Izaya to not regret coming here. Though judging by the informant’s responses, he’d been needing it as hard as Shizuo and he might not even notice such small efforts.

They’d crashed through the door, fallen on the bed and then spent a disproportionate amount of time kissing and undressing, moving and arching against something soft, not stone or grit.

Izaya had ran his hands over the tyre grooves in Shizuo’s arms and chest.

“What’s this?”

“- truck.”

“Really? Wasn’t me this time.”

“Mm.”

He didn’t want to talk about it.

 And then he had moved down Izaya’s body and taken him into his mouth.

“-ah, what are you doing?”

Shizuo had been going to ignore him, but Izaya actually turned on the light and sat up, drawing his legs back with a weird look in his eyes.

Shizuo also sat up, confused, rewinding the past few minutes back in his head.

 _It's not_ that _weird, it’s not like there are fucking rose petals on the bed._

Izaya was still flushed with arousal and aching hard, but there was definitely something up. He grabbed his knife as an afterthought. It took him a moment, because it was in his pocket and his clothes were piled in a mess, and Shizuo had more than enough time to stop him, but he changed his mind at last minute.

_Let him have the fucking thing if it makes him feel better._

He regretted this however once Izaya did have the knife to his throat, breathing hard with that new look in his eyes, and Shizuo felt his stomach drop as he wondered if he’d banged Izaya’s head against too many things too many times, if he’s about to be killed in his bed. If Izaya started hating him at some point, _really_ hating him, and he hadn’t noticed.

“What’s wrong?” he said. He wondered if he accidentally hurt him and didn’t notice, feels stupid and inadequate. “I won’t suck you off if you don’t like it.”

He could tell by Izaya’s expression that that’s not it. He was still looking at Shizuo as if _he’s_ the one who’s acting dangerous.  Shizuo tried again.

“Why are you freaking out?”

“I’m not. I’m not freaking out.”

As if to prove it, he put his knife aside and turned off the light.

“OK,” he said in the dark. “I’m all right.” Shizuo felt him shuffle back down in the bed.

“…You sure?”

He was still a little uneasy himself, not just from the knife but at the level of distrust in Izaya’s eyes. _Is it that difficult for him to be here? Is it that weird that I wanted to try a bit harder?  
_

“Yes,” Izaya said, and made no effort to explain himself. He waited for Shizuo to do something. “Come on, or I’m going home.”

Shizuo wanted to take Izaya by the throat and shake him. But, he fought it and forced himself to keep going.

He was tense at first, and could feel Izaya was too, and he almost wanted to call it a night, but Izaya won't come near him again if he does. It gets easier. He could feel Izaya starting to sigh and go with it, his hands alternately stroking and gripping Shizuo’s hair.

He got the informant off once, twice, and by the time they’re fucking it almost felt normal.

Except that it’s all for nothing, because obviously when he wakes up, Izaya is gone.

* * *

 

“Why’d you leave?” Shizuo asks Izaya, when he’s able to confront him.

“Because I have things to do, Shizu-chan. We can’t all lie in our beds all day.”

“It was 9am, flea. And I woke up earlier, I just didn’t get up.”

“Of course you did.”

“I _did_. We were holding hands and your leg was over my shoulder.”

This seems to shut him up. For about a second, and then he starts laughing.

“Sorry,” he says, seeing Shizuo rile. “It just sounds so bizarre when you say it out loud.”

Shizuo doesn’t laugh.

“What made you invite me over, anyway?”

Shizuo had been hoping he wouldn’t ask, although it is a sensible question; almost two years, two winters, two rainy seasons, and they had never made it in off the streets.

“I just thought it might be good to…stop hurting you so much.”

Izaya smiles at him to hide his confusion.

“Why on Earth would you want to do that?”

* * *

 

They don't have sex after that conversation. They don't even see each other for a good while.

The next time he finds Izaya, he’s on an old shed Izaya used to climb up to get away from him at school. Shizuo had never figured out how he’d been able to get up there, but circling the building now, he finds an old ladder hidden in the shrubbery.

It's far from any streetlights or other buildings, and he can see the glow of TVs and lamps from people's homes in the distance. Shizuo smokes in peace and silence, enjoying the view of the playing fields and the city lights behind it.

He’s left in relative peace until he hears the shrubbery rustling. It could be anything from a squirrel to the informant, and Shizuo just lounges back to wait.

It’s Izaya who parts the bushes and gets to his feet. It takes his eyes a moment to land on Shizuo, and he almost stumbles when he does. Shizuo grabs his arm to steady him.

“Careful.”

He keeps hold of Izaya even as he feels him get his balance. He can’t see how close his feet are to the edge, but it can’t be far.

“Thanks.” Izaya gives a self-deprecating little laugh. “I haven’t seen anyone up here since...well, ever.”

“I found the ladder.”  He waits for Izaya to sit down. “Do you want to sit down?”

“I slept with someone else.”

Shizuo lets go of Izaya as if he were red hot. It is so sudden, so unexpected, it’s like a punch in the stomach. Not even _I fucked_ but _I slept with someone else_. Shizuo thought last time had felt different, thought it was progress. He wonders if Izaya is trying to hurt him, but his voice is quiet, neutral.

“Good for you,” he says.

Izaya shifts a little. He still doesn’t sit down.

“I just thought you should know. I don’t know if you ever- “

“No.”

“Well, me neither, until now, but, I don’t mind if you do. Obviously.”

Shizuo just keeps smoking.

“Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

“You are.”

“I’m not going to push you, Izaya-kun, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He fishes in his pocket and holds out the folded knife, warm from being there so long. “You left this.”

Izaya reaches for it slowly as if it might bite him.

“Thanks.”

There’s another uncomfortable silence.

“I know why you’re doing this,” Izaya says suddenly, and which doesn’t make any sense as Shizuo doesn’t think _he’s_ doing anything. “That accident,” Izaya goes on. “The truck. You must have hit your head.” He gives a little humourless laugh. “It messed you up. That’s why you’re behaving this way.”

“Don’t laugh at me, Izaya-kun.”

Shizuo agrees, the accident had given him a push, but not about anything he hadn’t already thought about. And he doesn't have head injuries.

He _is_ mad, though. Mad that it’s over, just like that, because it is over: he’s not fooling around with Izaya if there’s someone else in the picture. Mad that he’s had almost two years and he’d left it too late.

“Why are you so angry?” Izaya says now. “There’s nothing to be angry about.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I thought _you’d_ met someone else.”

Shizuo tries to stare at him in the dark, thinking he’s misheard him.

“ _Me_? Why - what made you think that?”

“You were acting different,” Izaya says. “You were making all this effort, and people only do that when they’ve found someone. When they want to impress someone.”

“You thought I was – _practising_ on you?” It is Shizuo’s turn to laugh. “That’s ridiculous, flea.”

“You can’t laugh at me if I can’t laugh at you, Shizu-chan.”

“OK,” he says. “I guess we’re both just fucking idiots then.”

He jostles Izaya playfully with his foot to lighten the mood, too gently to really unbalance him, but Izaya’s so tense he practically jumps out of the way.

And apparently he’s not done.

“If _I_ had suddenly started acting differently, if I suddenly invited you over out of the blue, you’d be suspicious.”

“That’s different.”

“Why?”

Shizuo doesn’t know what to say.

“There’s no-one else, Izaya,” he clarifies instead.

“I don’t really care,” Izaya says. His voice turns nonchalant. “We can keep fooling around if you want.”

“No,” he says, and senses Izaya stiffen. “Not if you’re seeing someone else. It has to be just us.”

“It was just a one off,” the informant says.

“But there can’t be any more one-offs.”

He wonders if this will be taken as a steep demand, wishing he could make out Izaya’s expression in the dark. He’d wanted to put a few more rules out there, maybe waking up and eating together now and then, but part of him is still reeling from Izaya’s impromptu confession, and he will take what he can get.

“OK.” Izaya says, as if he couldn’t care less. “Anything else?”

Shizuo swallows. When he doesn’t answer, he feels Izaya finally sit beside him, though it’s still too dark to see his face.

“…no,” he says.

“You sure?” he can feel Izaya leaning in without quite touching him. “You don’t want me to come over now and then?”

“Not if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” he says, and the tease drops out of his voice. “I was just…” Shizuo feels the fur of his jacket as he shrugs. “Making sure.”

Shizuo decides not to ask what he was making sure of. He flicks his cigarette out into the night.

Izaya finally moves close enough to press against Shizuo’s side, his head coming to rest on his shoulder.

"Let's go, then."

 


End file.
